In the tender dawn of our first embrace,
Where laughter danced in a sunlit space,
Your eyes, two stars in a twilight sky,
Held secrets of dreams that dared to fly.

We wove our hearts in a silken thread,
With every word, a promise said,
In the garden of youth, where innocence bloomed,
We painted our world, where love was consumed.

But like the storm that brews in the night,
Came the shadows, our first fight,
A clash of words, sharp as a knife,
In the fragile tapestry of our young life.

Your voice, once a melody, now a distant chime,
Echoed the hurt, the fracture of time,
I saw in your eyes a flicker of pain,
A tempest of feelings, a heart in disdain.

Yet in that moment, as silence fell,
I felt the weight of a love unwell,
For every tear that glistened and shone,
Was a testament to the bond we had grown.

We stumbled through anger, sorrow, and doubt,
Learning that love is what life’s about,
In the ashes of conflict, we found our way,
With whispered apologies, we chose to stay.

For first love is fragile, a delicate art,
A canvas of colors, a map of the heart,
And though we may falter, and sometimes we fight,
It’s the healing that follows that brings back the light.

So here’s to the moments, both bitter and sweet,
From the lessons we learn to the love we repeat,
In the dance of our youth, through joy and strife,
We cherish the whispers that shape our first life.

.    .    .